The late Professor Edward Fortes. 309 



When lo ! from out the Silent Land, 



Our faithless murmurs to rebuke, 

 In answer to our vain demand 



Thy solemn Spirit seemed to look ; 

 And pointing to a shining book, 

 That opened in thy shadowy hand, 

 Bade us regard those words, which light 

 Not of this world, made clear and bright : — 



" If, as on earth I learned full well, 

 Thou canst not tell the reason why 

 The lowliest moss or smallest shell 

 Is called to live, or called to die, 

 Till thou w 7 ith searching, patient eye, 

 Through ages more than man can tell, 

 Hast traced its history back in Time, 

 And over Space, from clime to clime ; 



" If all the shells the tempests send, 

 As I have ever loved to teach ; 

 And all the creeping things that wend 

 Their way along the sandy beach, 

 Have pedigrees that backward reach, 

 Till in forgotten Time they end ; 

 And may as tribes for ages more, 

 As if immortal strew the shore. 



" If all its Present, all its Past, 



And all its Future thou canst see, 

 Must be deciphered, ere at last 



Thou, even in part, canst hope to be 

 Able to solve the mystery 

 Why one sea-worm to death hath passed ; 

 How must it be, when God doth call, 

 Him whom He placed above them all ? " 



Ah, yes ! we must in patience wait, 



Thou dearly loved, departed friend ! 

 Till we have followed through the gate, 

 Where Life in Time doth end ; 

 And Present, Past, and Future lend 

 Their light to solve thy fate ; 

 When all the ages that shall be, 

 Have flowed into the Timeless Sea. 



GEOBGE WILSON. 



Elm Cottafte, Edinburgh, 

 1st January 1863. 



